Hamnd av Underhuggare
by rancois
Summary: When Finland starts to remember his hellish life, he motivates himself to kill his old boss Sweden. Eventually, the event is discovered by Romano and he decides that his old boss must die also! These two unspeakable acts shifts the balance of power in Europe... And not in a good way!
1. Dominonvaikutusista

Chapter 1- Dominovaikutusista

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_There he was, resting in the grass. It was dark out , not a sound could be heard coming from the forest behind him nor the road in front of him. Someone was with him, someone he did not want to be with. The man was quite tall, with glasses and strong blue eyes. He said little, and always looked slightly angry. Was he mad at Denmark? They had only left the house yesterday, maybe that was why the quiet man was upset. The man moved, and suddenly he was on top of the smaller one, crushing him. It was all very uncomfortable. Would they stay like this all night?! He can't do this, it's not right. He can't just lock up smaller countries like this. It's just not fair..._

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His dreams brought it all back, his dreams uncovered the hate, the need for revenge... He made his decision, yes it was time; time to stop smiling and show Europe just how dangerous he could really become. The day was Tuesday, and his preperations began.

He used the train ride to his advantage, building his anger to keeep himself from cowarding out and leaving things the way they are. He disembarked in the capital. It was an average city, with small buildings at least no taller than six stories. The streets were wide and icy as always. Finland had to cross at least five bridges to get to where he wanted. Finally he reached his destination. He now stood in front of a modest house of average size. The tiny garden was neatly kept, and the front landing was perfectly swept. Finland strolled through the front gate and up to the front door.

After a few moments of waiting, a man- tall, with short blond hair -answered the door with a flat expression on his face. "Ja?", asked Sweden in his usual deep voice. Standing opposite of him was Finland who, as usual, had a smile on his boyish face.

"Hallo Sewden. I wanted to give you something.", said Finland.

"Ja. Well what is it you wanted to give to me, then?", Sweden repiled casually.

"Hold on, I'll give it to you soon.", said Finalnd, still smiling," But before i do... do you remember the fifteen-hundreds? You know, when I was... well... your slave?"

"Ja. I do."

"And do you remember how you would keep a tight leash on me and terrrorize my friends Livonia and Estland?"

"Ja. Why is this so important now?"

"Ooohh, I don't think I want to tell you exactly.", retorted the ever smiling Finn, "It's only the reason I came here toady."

"Okay. So what is my gift then?"

"Only this..." And with that Finland retrieved his pistol from his inner vest pocket. Before Sweden could react or even try to run, Finland fired three shots at his abdomen. The first enterd through the liver, tearing the tissue and exiting at a speed so fast it broke Sweden's fith rib. The second bullet loged itself in his intestinal tract, causing massive internal bleeding. The last did the worst damage; shattering the sternum and puncturing his windpipe, which meant that breathing would be naer impossible.

Sweden began to stumble, crashing into things before falling into an ever widening pool of crimson colored blood; and, as he went down, he bumped a table and caused a picture of him and Finland to fall and shatter, the pieces landing with him in his blood. Finland, unmoving, watched this struggle with a look of acomplishment on his face.

When Sweden's episoed was finished, Finland walked over to him and grabbed Sweden's head by his hair- which had become red in some spots.

"That's for all the years of slavery, for all the years of terror, for all the years of mistreatment!", Finland said into Sweden's ear through gritted teeth. And with that Finland dropped Sweden's head back into the blood puddle; strolled out of the foyer of the modest home, and caught the first train back to Helsinki.

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_Okay, so that was the first capter to my first story ever! I can understand if you think it was bad; but remember that i'm still new at this. This is my first story, so PLEASE review. I could really use the feedback!_


	2. Segui Il Leader

Chapter 2- Segui Il Leader

"Romano! Romano! Did you read the _giornale_ today?!", asked Veniziano to Romano excitedly.

"No, I didn't... imbecile.", replied Romano with a tone of annoyance in his voice.

"Mr. Sweden's in the hospital! It says that he was found in a pool of his own blood by mortals yesterday."

"Really!"

"Si!"

"What else did it say?"

"It says that he sustained injuries resulting from gunshots."

"He was shot?!", asked Romano, shocked.

"Si!", shouted Veniziano.

"Will he live?"

"Of coarse he will. He's a nation, remember.", replied Veniziano confidently.

"The doctors don't know that, imbecile!"

"Oh... right... _Ho dimenticato che_. The doctors consider it to be a miracle, considering the damage done to his windpipe.", Veniziano read off the paper in his hands.

"It was that bad?"

"Si, Romano."

"Do they know the gunman?"

"No. They only have a slight discription of him."

"It's a him?"

"Si."

"What's the discription?"

Veniziano began: "A woman saw a man, about five feet tall, walking away from Sweden's house shortly after hearing gunfire. Her eyesight's bad, so she didn't see much; only that his hair was blond and that he was wearing a blue shirt."

"Sounds strange.", said Romano.

"Si. It does. Poor Sweden... Who would want to hurt him anyway? What did he do to make someone **that** mad at him?"

"I don't know."

"It's just so weird... Oh well, at least it wasn't one of us!", Veniziano said happily.

"Si, for that I am thankful."

"Si... I'm going to start dinner now. We're having pasta!"

"Fine. Just go away now.", retorted Romano grouchily.

Veniziano retired to the kitchen, leaving Romano with his circulating thoughts. Veniziano's question kept running through his head: "_Who would want to hurt him anyway?" _Over and over... searching for an answer. It was a good question. Who **would** want to hurt Sweden-a once great, but now nearly invisible country buried in snow twenty-four seven.

Romano began serching even harder for an answer, posibly even one that pits it all on that potato bastard Germany. "No. That doesn't fit together. Chigi! I so hoped to that this would all be Mr. Krauty-Kraut's fault!", Romano thought to himself quietly, "Maybe it was a fellow Nordic?", he thought, " Perhaps Denmark. They hate each other right? No. That couldn't be it; Denmark has calmed down in the past few centuries. He's too gentle now. Besides, he hates Norway more than Sweden anyway..."

Romano remained in this silent state for another half hour, then Veniziano called him to dinner. During dinner Romano was again silent, listening (or at least **pretending** to listen) to his brother ramble on about his day with Germany and Japan. He was acctulay contemplating over Sweden's assailant. He began thinking to himself. "_Blond hair... vest... blue shirt..." _Suddenly it came to him. "_Oh mio dio!", _he shouted out loud, causing Veniziano to stop talking and look over at him, startled.

"What?! What happened?", Veniziano asked, still startled by Romano's outburst.

"Finland!"

"What about Finland?!"

"Oh... nothing.", said Romano, trying to hide his suprise.

That said, he bolted from the table, leaving Veniziano with his pasta, and ran for the telephone. With shaking fingers he dialed the number for Finland's house.

It didn't take long for Finland to answer. "Hallo, this is-"

"I know who you are you maniac!", shouted Romano angrily.

"Who is this? What do you want?", asked Finland angrily.

"This is Italy Romano, and I want to know why you shot Sweden."

Finland's reply shocked Romano. "What!? I didn't hurt Sweden! He's my friend. What makes you think that I would hur-"

"You shut your face! Iv'e figured it out!", Romano continued, " A woman says that she saw a man that looked like you leaving Stockholm **after **hearing shots coming from the area around Sweden's home! Give up! Stop making the exuses!", yelled Romano quickly into the phone.

After what seemed like an eternity , Finland's voice once again came through the reciever; this time soundiong serious and malevolent, "Fine... Yes, I shot Svergie. But I had a good reason!"

"And what reson is that?"

"I remembered.", began Finland, " I remembered the fifteenth century; all the years of oppression and unjust rule... He called me his **WIFE **for Christ's sake!... Then I contemplated my current position, still a nobody... Just a little boy standing in the shadows of the other Nordics."

"But why shoot him?"

"Because I was looking for a change. I could have just insulted him, but what would that do? I'll tell you what it would do; **NOTHING**... absolutely nothing..."

"You didn't have to do what you did! That's pushing it too far! I can't believe that you're that crazy you slavic bastar-" Finland stopped him there and suprised him by asking: "How's Spain doing?"

"What?", asked Romano, taken back by the sudden inqiry.

"I said: how's Spain doing?"

"Fine, I guess...", replied Romano quietly.

"Does he still pull on your face?"

"...no."

"He still likes your brother more than you, yes?"

Romano fell silent for a moment, then replied: "Yes, yes he still prefers Veniziano."

"Tell me, does he coddle Veniziano every time he meets him?"

Gloomily Romano replied: "Si."

"Is that fair to you?"

Again Romano was silent. After a few moments he was able to put together an answer: "No..."

"Do you sitll like Spain?", Finland asked.

It took Romano several moments to think the question over in the hopes of finding a new answer, but he could only repeat what he had said before.

"No!", shouted Roamno angrily, "No I dont! I hate that uncaring, nasty, taco eating bastardo!"

What are you going to do about it?", asked Finland in an emotionless voice.

"I... I don't know...", replied Romano in a quieter tone .

"Wrong answer."

"What?"

"Wrong... answer..."

"I'm hanging up now. Arivaderchi dumbass!", said Romano as he slammed the reciever down on the body of the phone.

Again, many thoughts swirled through his head; the chief one being- should he take revenge on Spain?

"This is a stupid thing to mull over", he said to himself, "I'll go to bed and forget all about what that bastard Finland said by tomorrow."

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_So that's my second chapter. To anyone reading this ending- Thank's for powering through all the dialogue! I know it seems like a pain, but it's all important to the future of the story. Again, please review!_


	3. Sogni e Fuoco

Chapter 3- Sogni e Fuoco

Unfortunately, Romano's dreams were full of worries, worries concerning his life. Like Finland he spent all his life- up to the nineteenth century as an underling. First there was Austria, who took in both him and his younger brother and made their lifes a living hell; forcing both of them to maintain his big house and dress suspiciously like women. Eventually Austria became bored with him and passed him to Spain like and old toy.

Spain was even worse. Just as unappreciative as Austria, always chasing after Veniziano and never around to watch him clean... he always came home **after** the mess was made.

Gradually the dream shifted to his complete life with Spain, from his first day all the way to his freedom in 1861. Twelve hours of horrible memories. By the time he woke up, he understood what Finland had said. "Wrong answer."

As usual, Venizino was right next to him. It was hard to tell, but he was sure that his brother was at least half awake. "Veniziano... Do you still like Austria all these years later?", he asked his brother quietly.

"What?", responded Veniziano drowsily, "Of corse I do. His music is so cool..."

"Even after all the mistreatment?"

"Si."

Romano couldn't believe what he was hearing! His stupid brother still likes that asshole! It was understandable though... Veniziano likes everyone **except** for Britain, and of corse creepy Russia.

"Okay... I'm going downstairs to start breakfast now."

"That's good, Romano.", said Italy as he fell back into sleep.

But Romano did not head for the kitchen as said. Instead he dressed himself, taking care to put on a jacket, and headed for the living room. He went to the side table, opened the drawer and began furiously rummaging through the contents. He found what he wanted quickly. His dagger, left over from his days in the mafia.

Dagger in hand he headed for the_ Aeroporto Fiumicino, _Rome's largest airport. Upon arrival he hid the weapon in his coat. The lazy security personnel didn't even bother checking for anything; Romano being a diplomat after all. He bought a two way ticket to Madrid and headed for the terminal. After sitting throgh a twenty-minute wait, his plane finally came. Upon boarding the plane he found his seat and spend the ensuing forty minutes in a quiet meditation.

While in his meditative state he fought his rationality. This self to-self battle was over his decision to kill Spain. One part of him wanted to do it so badly, but the other part of him was worried about the repercussions. What if all of Europe turns against him and his brother?! He didn't want to be cause of his brothers destruction. But there was still a constant homicidal nagging inside his mind, telling him that Spain must be punished for what he did. All the poking, stalking, and yelling must be revenged! Eventually the plane took off and Romano, being Italian, fell asleep.

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_The promenade was dark, and all was quiet. He was running, running as fast as his small legs could carry him. The arches and gardens rushed by as he sped down the path. He knew not where he was running, but he knew he had to get there before it was too late._

_Suddenly the pathe became a hallway lined with identical wooden doors. Nothing seemed strange about them, except that the agonizing screams of what seemed like and entire city could be heard radiating from the other side._

_Running, running ever faster down this hallway of nightmares, Romano began to cry. Some unknown force compelled him to slow, then eventually stop. He was standing in front of a door stained with wet, crimson blood. Fighting his fears, he opened the door and was mortified by what he saw._

_It was Spain's bedroom. Everything was burning. The walls, floorboards, and even the furniture was aflame. The scene had a certain smell of scorching flesh. This odor was being caused by the one thing over all that shook Romano to his very core. Spain was lying on the burning bed; his clothes drenched in blood and his skin burning in a gruesome manner. There was a dagger buried deep in his forehead, a dagger that carried distinct markings from the mafia rings of Southern Italy._

_The small and helpless Romano could only look on in horror as his former boss and only true friend burned..._

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He was awoken by a flight attendant. "_Disculpe señor, _but the flight is over. It's time to leave the plane."

"Oh!", said Romno with a start, "Grazie, miss." He jumped out of his seat and practically sprinted across the loading bridge to the terminal building. Navigating the _Madrid-Torrejon _Airport was difficult, but eventually he found the taxi station. He hailed a cab and gave the man directions to Spain's house.

After what seemed like an hour- but was only 20 minutes -of winding through the crowded streets of Old Madrid the taxi arrived outside a massive palace of a distinctly Moorish style; with turreted towers, red stone walls, lattice windows, and a jumble of tiled borderings, the building was a tribute to his abused past. That's why he hated every bit of stone and glass in it.

It took Romano some time to find the front door, which seemed lost in a maze of arches and windows. "Dio! If only my memory of this place was better, then I could find the stupid door.", Romano snapped under his breath. Eventually he found the entrance; a monolithic wooden slab covered in golden reliefs of Spain's history. Romano was even pictured there, poised on one tiny little knee, handing a basket of grapes and other fruits to a triumphant Spain. This image only made him angrier. Now he was absolutely sure that Spain had to die for his crimes against the Southern Italians. He huffed up the landing and forced open the door, trying to ignore the horrid feeling he got from touching it.

He was immediately stopped by a short, pudgy man with a big bristly mustache. His face was red, and he did not look happy to see the door flung open in such a rude manner, "Excuse me, sir! You can't just barge in here! You need to make an appointment with señor Spain.", the man said.

With a hint of rage in his voice Romano replied, "It's okay. I'm an old friend."

"I don't care if you're a friend or his father! You need an appointment!"

"Look you little piece of-"

"Who is it Arnesto?", asked Spain as he came down the grand curving staircase in front of Romano and Arnesto. Both Spain and Romano caught each others eye. Spain was obviously overjoyed to see his old underling. Romano gave Spain his typical look of resentment. "Romano! What a surprise! Why have you come all this way?", asked Spain excitedly, "It's been so long! I thought that you were mad at me for some reason. I'm glad you came today though. There's something I wanted to talk to you about. I want to exp-"

Romano stopped him there and said, "There's something I wanted to talk to you about also. It's very important. Can we continue our talk in the drawing room... please?"

"Oh... Uh, sure.", replied Spain, confused by Romano's sad sound and appearance. The two walked along an elaborate, decorated Moorish hallway that ended at a large oaken double door. Spain opened one side and held it for Romano. Arnesto had been following a few paces behind, but when he reached the entrance to the drawing room Spain motioned for him to turn back and stay in the foyer. With Arnesto gone, Spain closed the door and joined Roamno, who had found a place on one of the many ornate sofas that were contained within the space. Spain noticed that something was wrong with his friend. Instead of glaring at Spain, Romano had his head down and was looking away from him.

"So... Do you want to give your news first?", asked Romano.

"Okay. I was talking to my senior advisors, and they're disappointed with the working space of our correspondents in Naples. They want to expand the Spanish Consulate in your area. Of corse this would all have to be paid for by Rome... And the property taxes in Naples would go way up." Romano took this all in silently, still not looking at Spain. Inside, he was outraged. Not even his boss anymore and Spain somehow still manages to make his people miserable! The taxes in Naples were already high, now Spain wants them to go even higher! Spain continued, "There's even more good news around this proposal. Germany's boss heard about our plans and wants to move the German Embassy to Naples; he even wants to build it right next to mine! Isn't that funny?", asked Spain happily.

Romano exploded inside with this news. "**That's it!**", he yelled. His head snapped around and he looked Spain directly in the eyes with a mask of murderous rage on his face. "No! That's** not** good news! That's terrible news! I can't believe that even now you're trying to make me miserable!"

"Ro-Romano, I don't see what's wrong!", Spain said, obviously surprised by Romano's freak-out.

"You don't see what's wrong?! you're trying to make **my** life harder by expanding that stupid consulate of yours, and what's even worse is your actions are bringing that bastard Germany even closer to me!"

"It's not that bad... It's only a small extension on the east wing! So what if it'll cost 769,708 Euros."

"It's not just the cost! It's the fact that you're bringing my enemies closer to me! Do you think that I like Germany?! Cause' I don't!", Romano yelled, "That's it, I was unsure at first but now I know that this is what I have to do to get you back!"

"W-What are you going to do?", Spain asked, frightened by Romano's sudden change from sad to furious.

Romano, who had taken a stand at the beginning of his angry rant, pulled the knife out of his coat. Spain, who was still seated, saw the weapon; for a second he stared at it as if he wasn't really sure it was there. "Romano, why do you have a knife with you?", he asked.

"Because... I'm going to **kill you!**", Romano said in a sadistically calm voice.

Romano lunged at Spain. Seeing Romano move, Spain rolled of the sofa and stood up a pace away from his attacker. "Don't do this _mi hijo."_, Spain said in a serious voice.

"Don't you call me that!", Romano yelled. He ran at Spain ready to attack again. When Spain was in cutting distance Romano took a swipe at Spains stomach. This time Spain could only raise a defensive hand, which was promptly cut by Romano's dagger. Blood began to seep from the deep gash in Spain's hand. Both Spain and Romano stopped and stared unbelievingly at this wound. Spain was the first to snap out of the trance. He quickly darted across the room, past a still spacey Romano, and into an open door that led down an older hallway. Romano snapped out of it as soon as Spain passed through the entrance to the hall. He ran to catch up with his prey. "_Vamos __España_!", he yelled down the long path. It may be Spain's house, but Romano still remembered the layout of the old building, the one he spent his childhood in. Romano was sure that he knew where Spain was heading, just like in his dream... Romano ran down the hall, came to a T-intersection and tuned left, found a staircase that would take him to the third floor and used it, and found himself in the same hallway as his dream. At this point he slowed to a walking pace. He walked down the hall careful to be quiet. Eventually he came to a certain door, a door with a long swipe of fresh blood on it. Romano pushed the door open slowly and looked in. What he saw made him smile. Sure enough, Spain was in his room, but he was unarmed and sitting on the bed, legs curled up, head down. Spain was weeping lightly, and seemed shivery. Romano walked over to Spain and stood in front of him. He pried the dagger underneath Spains chin and levered his head up to look at Romano. Spain's eyes had reddened and his face was damp with tears.

"My, my... How the mighty have fallen...", Romano said, clearly enjoying the scene.

"Why Romano?", Spain asked quietly.

"I think you know why.", Romano replied sternly.

Spain tuned his head away from Romano. "Was I really that bad?"

"You made life very hard. You took no time to try and yet to know me as a person... You were never around."

"Romano, I had no idea..."

"Well you're only a stupid Spainiard."

"Can we talk about this?", Spain asked. Thier was a glint of hope in his eyes that plucked at Romano's heart. For a second Romano actually began to feel compasion for this man. Yes he was a terrible boss who still makes his life difficlut, but he's still Spain... Romano began to retract the knife, which was still under Spain's chin, but then his moment of weakness passed and all the horrible memories came flooding back, drowning his sense of compassion in 400 years of hate. It was as if Romano temporarily lost all fellings for his old master, and no little beg of forgiveness was going to bring them back.

"Go ahead, Romano.", said Spain in a comforting voice, "Kill me."

"W-What?", asked Romano, caught off guard.

"Yes... If it will give you peace, do it. I'll do anything to make you happ-" Romano's dagger drove itself through Spains skull with a sickening crack. Spain only had a second to look up at the weapon before the life left his eyes and he died. Romano withdrew the blade. His face was serious, with a look of unmoving determination, Hot , sticky blood began to pour from the wound, drenching Spain's face and shirt. Romano stood still and took in all the death. He had done it, he killed the one he hated, but... why did he feel regretful? This man had been the bane of his existence, now he was gone forever. Up to this moment Spain had been sitting up, but now his dead body fell back on the bed. Romano turned and began to walk to the door, but not before taking one final look at his former master. Tracing his steps backwards he eventually found the drawing room. Before he left the space, Romano took out his hankerchief and wiped the blood spots off the tile where he had first cut Spain's hand. One finished he returned both the cloth and his dagger to his coat pocket.

Upon returning to the foyer, Romano was again stopped by the footman Arnesto. Romano was expecting another dickish scolding but was instead greeted with a warm smile on the man's fat face. He was holding a small gift basket. "Aquí tiene señor.", he said, "This is complements of my boss." Romano took the small parcel and looked inside. It contained a box of churros, a bottle of tequila that carried a logo with a suspiciously Arnesto looking man on it, and- for some reason -French chocolate. "Dio! Can't he get anything right?", Romano thought to himself when he saw the French sweets. Romano returned his gaze to Arnesto who, for some reason, was still there..

"Uuhhh... Is there anything I can help you with?", Romano asked, trying hard not to give Arnesto a weird look.

"No.", Arnesto replied, "May I show you to the door now?"

"Yes."

The short man guided Romano to the gilded portal at the front of the room. Romano stepped out into the warm Spanish sun and looked around. Nothing seemed different, not yet at least. As Romano headed down the stairs to the street he heard Arnesto's voice behind him. "Adios! I hope you enjoyed your visit with España." Romano ignored this farewell and once again hailed a cab that would take him to the _Madrid-Torrejon _airport. He wanted to get out of the country before everyone realized what happened to their precious Spain. "Driver. Hurry it up!", he told the man behind the wheel. The taxi sped up slightly and tuned onto the freeway.

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So that's my third chapter... There's some things that I wanted to put in there but couldn't because of the story line. The Arnesto brand tequila is for my friend Hetahearts, she thinks that man is hilarious!

Please review!


	4. Tempo di Conversazione

Chapter 4- Tempo di Conversazione

When Romano got home from his two-hour flight, he found Veniziano shakily cutting a tomato in the kitchen. He stood quietly in the doorway and watched his younger brother intently, trying to see he was reacting to Romano's disappearance. His brother stood there at the counter, slicing the tomato unevenly (something he almost never did) and trying to hum a happy song between sobs. Romano continued to watch his fratello until eventually Veniziano cut himself on the chefs knife. He whirled around to go get a band-aid and spotted his brother in the doorway. "Romano! You're back!", he shouted. He ran to Romano and wrapped him in a tight brotherly embrace. Suddenly, his tone became angrier, "Where the hell have you been!?", he loudly asked Romano.

Veniziano's angry outburst momentarily caught Romano off guard, seeing as his brother always used a positive tone. "Uhhh... Welll I was out running errands. Yeah! I had to attend to some things in Napoli. That was all...", he nervously replied.

Veniziano broke the embrace and stood at arms length from Romano.

"You could have told me.", he said, "This morning you said you would make breakfast, then when I went down stairs the house was empty and nothing in the kitchen had even been touched. I was so worried... I called Germany to see if maybe you went to go and try to get your mustache revenge again, but he said he hadn't seen you all day!"

"Well I'm back now."

" _Per favore, _tell me next time you decide that you need to disappear for nine hours, okay?"

"Fine, I will."

"Grazie."

Romano looked over his brothers shoulder at the kitchen island, which had a small pile of vegetables and spice jars on it; and then over to the stove top, where two large pots sat steaming like Icelandic geysers. It was then that the aromatic smell of his brother's famous cooking finally drifted to his nose. He returned his gaze to his brother and asked, "So what's for dinner?"

During dinner Veniziano pelted Romano with a barrage of questions, all of which related to his "errands in Napoli". For every question, Romano gave an answer; some good, some obvious that it was a lie. But he was not worried about Veniziano trying to validate his excuses. The only thing his brother ever validates is the amount of food in the pantry.

That night Romano forced his brother to sleep in another bed. This was met with furious cries of protest, but Romano held his ground and made Veniziano sleep alone in another bed. Romano needed the privacy tonight. He curled himself under the covers, feeling the weight of the fabric. It felt heavy and scratchy, despite being made of Egyptian cotton. (The bed set was an apology gift from Turkey.) Figuring that it was only because he was still reeling over the events in Madrid, Romano tried to drift to sleep.

After hours of tossing and turning, Romano gave up on trying to fall to sleep. For about five minutes he just laid there, running Spain's death over in his mind. Why was he so conflicted? It's not like he was regretting his actions, right? **Right**?

"I'll talk to Finland tomorrow.", Romano said to himself, "He'll tell me if I made the right choice. I can't have regrets; I left them all behind with Spain's body... I think..."

He didn't get much sleep that night, the constant shifting of his emotions keeping him up. He was half-asleep when he told his brother he was leaving, again, to visit Finland. Veniziano was upset that Romano was leaving again, but glad he was informed before hand this time. He didn't sleep on the flight to Helsinki; he was to nervous to close his eyes, nervous about what Finland would say when Romano broke the news about what he did.

After a 3 hour flight the plane touched down on the icy tarmac of the Helsinki-Vantaa Airport. Stepping of the plane he took in the village-like appearance of Finland's capital and largest city. The fact that it was night out, 4 degrees celsius outside, and snowing didn't help Romano's opinion of the city

"I knew I should have brought my heavy coat."

* * *

I finally finished this update... Sorry it's super short. I want to save what's next for the next chapter. I can't believe people still read this story. I left it months ago to work on my second, so thanks to everyone that still checked it out! I think from now on I'll try to balance out my effort on each story, mainly so that I can finish this one.

Please review!


	5. Lomake Litto

Chapter 5- Lomake Litto

Finland sat in his salon reading a book next to his fireplace. He had just put another log on the fire, and the flame was more intense than he would've liked. He was to involved in his novel to get up and poke the fire down. He was very calm for a man that had only three days ago severely assaulted his best friend. Their dog, Hanatomago, wasn't faring so well. After the news broke that Sweden had been shot 3 times and was in the hospital, deep in a coma, Finland briefly returned to his Stockholm town house to get the little dog. Hanatomago was glad to see Finland since his now comatose co-owner wasn't very keen on giving him the proper attention that a small dog deserved. At least that's what Finland thought. Ever since returning to his Helsinki home, the dog would spend all day waiting by the door for his other master to return.

Finland was just about to get to the best part of his book when a sharp knocking came from his front door. He sighed, put his book on the side table, and went to answer the door. Hanatomago had to scurry across the tiled floor to avoid being stepped on by his owner. Finland pulled the door open slowly and was surprised to see Romano standing there in a fall coat, shivering while snow fell lightly on his head and shoulders.

"Hey licorice bastard. Your place is freezing! Can I come in?"

"Why of course." Finland stepped inside and over to let Romano in. The latter quickly stomped into the warm embrace of the house. "How have you been? I know it's only been a couple of days, but with all the other Nordics camping out at Sweden's hospital it's felt like months."

"Have you visited him yet?"

Finland closed the door and crossed his arms. His face went stern and he avoided eye contact with his guest. "I've considered it, but I don't think I'd be able to resist the urge to snuff him with his own pillow."

"Wow. Well you should. The other ice boxes might start to get suspicious."

"They're all idiots..."

Romano gave him a small shrug. "Anywhere I can hang this stupid coat?" Finland gestured to the coat rack behind Romano. The chilled man pivoted his whole body and hung the jacket. "Great. Can we move to the _soggiorno? _I have news."

"Sure. It must be important, considering you came all this way." Finland guided Romano to the living room and motioned for him to take a seat on the sofa opposite his chair. Romano chose the spot closest to the fire and began rubbing his hands together near the flame, trying desperately to recapture the heat of the Mediterranean. After Finland took his seat he spoke, "So you said you had news. Tell me." Romano turned his attention from the fireplace and looked at his host.

"I did it."

"Excuse me? Did what?"

Romano's gaze hardened and he straightened up in his seat. "I did it. I killed Spain." Finland stared at the latter for a second, then intertwined his fingers. as he looked at the fire. "I knew you would. Our talk was sure to spark something."

"Well..."

"Well I congratulate you. You took a step ahead of me and outed your problem. Mine still lives, hopefully he'll die in the hospital on his own so that I don't have to do it for him."

"You really did hate him, didn't you."

"The damn dog loves him more than me. What does that say?"

"The dog...?"

"Look by the door.", Finland gestured to the entry hall. Sure enough, the small dog was once again staring at the door, waiting for Sweden to walk in. "That man barely payed attention to him, too busy ruining **my** life to give a crap about our dog. And yet Hanatomago shows more adoration for him than I ever will..."

"You don't even miss him... just a little?"

Finland's head snapped away from the fire. He trained his purple eyes on Romano's face and put on a small, sadistic, smile."Is someone having regrets?"

Romano jumped slightly in his seat. "Wh-what? Me? Regrets about killing T-Tomato-bastard? Never."

"You're lying. I can tell."

"N-no..."

"Then stop stuttering."

Romano went to snap back, but shut his mouth instead.

"Good. Now, no I don't miss that creep; and yes, I can still tell that you're lying about having 's why you came to see me, isn't it?"

"Yes... I've told myself times over that I did the right thing, but I always still end up rethinking my actions."

"So you came to me for a second opinion, yes?"

"More like a final opinion. You gave me the idea to kill Spain, I want you to tell me if it was the right thing do do."

Finland untangled his fingers and placed his hands on the plush arms of his chair. "Awww." , he said almost mockingly, "I feel so honored."

"S-shut up! Just tell me your opinion already!"

Finland placed one leg on top of the other and leaned back. "You did the right thing. Us underlings never receive enough attention, nor are we treated fairly. Our weak past always carries into the present. No matter what we do... we are always cheated, ignored, and misrepresented. What we did set in motion a shift in power. With our "bosses" out of the way now we can get fair representation on the world stage."

Romano shifted slightly and looked away from Finland. "I guess...But what if we get caught?!" His outburst was met with the pompous flapping of Finland's hand. "Please!We'll get away with it. I have an idea that'll keep us safe."

"Yeah...?"

"You and I team up, use both of our strengths to keep us safe and help all others trapped in our situation."

Romano gave him a look of utter disbelief, "You mean... L-like... **Kill** other peoples overseers?"

"Exactly. Think about it, we'd be doing plenty of other countries huge favors. We'd be **heroes**!" Finland's tone became more excited and as he said this he leaned forward a little.

"I guess... It would be nice to be seen as a hero for once..."

"That's the spirit! C'mon! I already know who to help first."

Finland jumped from his seat and grabbed Romano's arm. Leading him to the door he said, "Grab your coat. It'll be cold where we're going!" Romano snatched his jacket as he was being pulled out the front door. He had only seconds to say farewell to Hanatomago before being whisked into the snowy storm by his new partner in crime.

* * *

So yeah... Finally a new chapter. I hope I did good with this one. After capping off the last chapter I got some new ideas, so now this story'll finally get worked on again.

Please review! See you next chapter!


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